When Zarifa Nawfal’s family arrived in Beirut for her young daughter’s surgery, her first desire was to visit the sea. The Mediterranean had been a constant presence in their life back in Gaza, before the war. “The moment I smelled the sea, I felt at peace — as if I were in Gaza,” Nawfal shared. But Lebanon, a temporary haven, soon began to remind her of home in more distressing ways.
Nawfal’s seven-year-old daughter, Halima Abou Yassine, is one of several severely injured Palestinian children brought to Lebanon for medical care under a program launched by Dr. Ghassan Abu Sitta, a British-Palestinian surgeon. But Lebanon, once a place of respite, has also been drawn into conflict, raising fears that it may face devastation similar to Gaza.
Back in Gaza, Nawfal’s family lived through unimaginable trauma. In February, two missiles struck as her children filled water containers. Halima, her youngest, was critically wounded with a severe head injury. Despite initial reports of her death, Nawfal’s family discovered signs of life just as they prepared to bury her. With emergency treatment, Halima survived, but she needed more advanced care. By July, the family was evacuated first to Egypt and then to Lebanon, where Halima underwent surgery.
Lebanon, though embroiled in its own ongoing conflicts, had the medical resources and expertise to treat war injuries. Dr. Abu Sitta chose Lebanon for its history of treating complex war wounds, noting that many injured from Iraq and Syria had received care there over the years. But by October 2023, Lebanon was again in turmoil. After militants crossed from Palestine into Israel, Hezbollah began launching rockets into Israel, which responded with heavy shelling and airstrikes.
In this increasingly volatile environment, children like Halima are once again caught in the crossfire. She has slowly been recovering in Beirut, showing resilience and enjoying life’s simple joys. However, when Israel’s offensive expanded into parts of Beirut, the families resorted to wartime habits: opening balcony doors to prevent shattering glass and sleeping in safer areas of their rooms.
Some aid organizations offered Nawfal’s family a chance to move elsewhere, but she declined. “Lebanon isn’t just another Arab country or a place we came for treatment,” she said. “Lebanon is a sister to Gaza.”
For five-year-old Adam Afana, another child brought to Beirut for treatment after nearly losing his arm in Gaza, the sounds of explosions have renewed memories of home. Adam’s uncle, Eid Afana, said the family fears Lebanon’s future could echo Gaza’s tragedy.
Dr. Abu Sitta’s program has since halted bringing more injured Palestinian children to Lebanon, but existing patients, like Adam, continue to receive care. Adam has made progress, including improved movement in his hand, but his final surgery has been postponed due to Lebanon’s instability. Dr. Abu Sitta noted the haunting similarity between injuries seen in Gaza and those now in Lebanon, particularly among children who suffer from “crush injuries, blast wounds, and multiple family casualties.”
“Like in Gaza,” he said, “this war takes its toll on children. All wars are waged on children.”